They Put Us Far Apart
by JeichanHaka
Summary: A My Life Had Stood AU where the Crawfords took Spencer rather than Alsie. (Since this is an AU of My Life Had Stood, it'd be best to read that first. Though it's not required.)
1. Chapter 1

**They Put Us Far Apart**

My Life Had Stood AU

 _Summary: A My Life Had Stood AU where the Crawfords took Spencer rather than Alsie from the Reids. Alsie's name will be written Elsie since her birth name is Elsie Diana Reid. Spencer will be referred to by the name the Crawfords named him, which I'm thinking will be Adrian Lee, which is the masculine form of Adrienne Leigh. (Unless you guys think it'd be better/easier to have him be called Spencer Lee or something similar.)_

* * *

1987:

(Spencer):

He grimaced. His hazel eyes, heavily shadowed beneath the porch canopy, seemed more of a burnt umber as he glowered at the door. His burnt sienna hair, more of a dull brown beneath the unlit porch, was drenched.

 _'Of all the times...'_ He frowned, trying the door handle again despite knowing it was useless. It was locked, and would remain so until after the family came back. Whenever that would be. Behind him the crack of thunder boomed, and he flinched. _'...This sucks. I knew I should've gotten my key before school.'_

He crossed his arms and sat down abruptly, his lips pursed as he considered his options. Usually he would go across the street to Ms. Walters', but none of the lights were on that he could tell. Nor was her car in the driveway. Most likely she was visiting her son and grandchildren, and would be gone until tomorrow or Sunday.

He pulled his knees to his chest and laid his chin upon them. He was cold and hungry, not that either was new. Though that was usually because the family was punishing him for something. Or couldn't be bothered to fix him lunch or dinner. Or breakfast.

Though the family never forgot Vinnie's lunch or dinner. Vinnie was their favorite. Despite the other grown-ups trying to convince him that parents didn't play favorites when it came to their children, he knew the truth. Vinnie was the son their parents wanted. Vinnie got everything he asked for, be it toys or candy or even a trip to the carnival. His little brother got everything.

While he...he got left behind on an unlit porch during a thunderstorm.

 _'They could've at least left the door unlocked when they noticed my key was still on the hook. It's right by the frickin door, they couldn't have missed it.'_ He grumbled, as did his stomach. His eyes teared up as he thought about food. The family hadn't packed him a lunch, and he had no time to make one that morning, so he ended up only having a small milk and apple that a sympathetic teacher gave him. His stomach was so empty.

It wouldn't be so bad if he knew they would be back tonight or the morning, as was the case during the week. But tomorrow was Saturday, and the last time the family left on a Friday, they didn't return until Sunday night.

He couldn't last longer than a night without something to eat. Not with his stomach so empty. Not to mention he was freezing with his hair and shirt drenched. Why - why did his school have to be so far away yet not far enough to require him to take the bus? If he was one of the bused students, then he'd have been brought back to the school since a parent or guardian was required by the school to be at the bus drop off for students younger than ten.

He could've been dry and gotten another apple, maybe a sandwich, while waiting for the family to pick him up.

 _'Maybe that's why we live this distance from the school. So I'll have to walk home and they don't have to worry about the school knowing they don't care about me.'_ He mumbled, bitter and shivering. His eyes teared up more, blurring his vision. He knew he wasn't their parents' favorite, but did they really hate him that much?

What made Vinnie so much better than him? Vinnie couldn't even speak properly, always mixing up his r sound with a w sound, and the th sound with a d sound. Plus Vinnie was always getting into stuff and couldn't read properly. Nor was the brat any better at math.

He on the other hand was able to do ninth grade work and he was only in the first grade! All the teachers at the school loved him and were always sending home notes for his parents to enroll him in a gifted school or allowed him to advance a few grades. Those notes were always just glanced over and tossed out though.

 _'Why did they even have me if they didn't want me?'_ He mumbled, hiding his tear-stained face against his knees, his arms cradled around. He shivered. _'...maybe...maybe I'm not theirs...maybe I'm a changeling, swapped out with their real son, and they know it subconsciously...but they can't prove it, so they have to keep me?'_

His lips twitched as he mulled the idea over. It wasn't the first time he'd considered it. He'd at one time thought he'd been adopted and had scoured the house searching for the paperwork proving such. His kindergarten teacher had told him that there would be paperwork saying he was adopted if he wasn't the Crawfords' biological son, and he had no reason to think his teacher would lie.

Though if he was some sort of changeling, like how certain species of bird would lay eggs in other bird species' nests and force the mother to hatch them. Apparently those bird species who lay their eggs in other nests would break the mother bird's real eggs if that mother tried to get rid of the foreign egg. Forcing the poor mother to care for the often greedy offspring of the other parasitic species who couldn't be bothered to care for their own babies.

He'd been tempted to find some of those parasitic birds and throttle them. Perhaps break their eggs in front if them and see how they liked it. But he decided against that, it would be too much effort looking for nests, and besides his teacher said it was mean. Animals couldn't help how they act, it was instinct, unlike with people.

People had reason. Logic. Even if sometimes it seemed like they didn't use it. Though there were times when he thought some animals had more sense than people. Ms. Walter's cat was one. That pussy cat always knew when dinner was being brought out for her and could tell if someone was trying to trick her. He'd gotten hissed at the first time he'd tried tricking her and scratched the second.

He quickly learned not to tease her. Unlike Vinnie who was no longer allowed in Ms. Walter's house because he kept pulling her pussy cat's tail. Vinnie also hadn't figured out that saying that word 'pussy' out loud was not polite. Though it was confusing to him as well why that word was impolite while the word fanny was not. They both pretty much were slang for the same thing, albeit the latter only meant that in British English.

It was really confusing why people needed to have two versions of the same language. Though it did make it fun to learn and he got a kick out of using foreign or archaic words that meant the same things as those that would get him in trouble. He just had to be careful about using certain foreign non-slang words that were slang here.

He shivered again. The sudden gust of wind drew his focus back to his current predicament. It wasn't raining anymore, but it was cold. His hair and shirt were still wet. His empty stomach grumbled. Perhaps he should go to the library or to the coffee and bake shop down the street? The people there knew him and would give him something to eat. Even if he did get punished later on for forgetting his key, he needed something to eat.

 _'I wonder if they have any pumpkin or apple pie? I hope so...'_ He lifted himself to his feet and started walking, still shivering though the thought of delicious baked goods to eat pushed him forward.

0

(Alsie):

"I'm sorry! Okay?! Why do you always bring that up? Every time something happens, you always bring that up." Momma shouted at Poppa, her cheeks glistening with angry tears.

"Why?! Perhaps if you paid better attention to Elsie, I wouldn't have to keep reminding you about what happened three years ago!" Poppa yelled back, his normally calm voice harsh.

Elsie sniffled, trembling in her covers as she listened to her parents arguing. Her eyes stung as did her throat, both from crying and her fever. That was why her momma and poppa were fighting. Momma hadn't noticed her fever that day and it wasn't until the school nurse called to ask someone to pick her up that either momma or poppa knew she was sick.

Poppa had immediately rounded on momma when he came home from work, and the two had been arguing for the past forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes and fifty-two seconds.

She hated it when her parents fought, she didn't like her poppa yelling or her momma crying. It wasn't momma's fault that she had pretended to be well so that neither her parents would worry. She hated the fuss they made more than being sick, and it never seemed fair that momma was always blamed by poppa for her being sick or getting hurt.

"It wasn't just a cold that time! Or chicken pox or whatnot. It was appendicitis! And because you had stopped taking your medication you didn't notice the pain Elsie was in!" Poppa growled, his words the same as in every argument. Though that didn't make them any less painful for momma. "We almost lost her!"

"I know. And I'm sorry!" Momma sobbed, no longer able to yell. Poppa's words rung too true and painful for momma to continue the fight.

"...Diana, look...I..." Poppa sighed, his voice no longer angry. "I'm sorry too. I know I shouldn't keep bringing it up, but..."

Elsie tried to make out what he said next, but couldn't. The sudden lack of yelling, though reassuring to her, made it impossible to hear what her parents were saying down the hall. She could still hear her momma crying though. Though that too soon faded.

She sniffled and hiccuped, trying to stop her own tears before leaving her room. It sounded like the worst of the argument was over and she didn't want her being upset to reignite it. Before she could dry her cheeks or unwrap herself from her blanket, her poppa knocked on her door.

"Hey, bunny-bear, how are you feeling?" Poppa asked after opening her door. He paused and drew in a breath before sighing. He quickly approached the bed where Elsie was huddled into a ball and sat down. "I'm sorry if all that telling upset you."

"It's...it's not momma's fault." Elsie hiccuped. "I told her I was fine. That I could go to school. I didn't let her take my temperature."

Poppa drew in a breath then exhaled, more regret poured into that one sound than any of his apologies. He picked up Elsie and hugged her tightly. "You know you need to stay in bed if you're sick. You should've said you didn't feel good. Bunny-bear."

"But I don't wanna worry you. And you need to go to work." Elsie mumbled, her large hazel-sienna eyes gazing up at her poppa's. "You can't stay home to take care of me."

"Lil' bunny-bear, why..." Poppa started only to be interrupted by Elsie continuing.

"We can't afford you missing work. We'll have to move again."

Poppa opened his mouth to speak, to refute his daughter's words, but stopped. He sighed and hugged Elsie tighter, kissing her forehead. He couldn't respond because it was true, she had seen the letters and overheard her parents talking a few times. About a mortgage, about bills, medical expenses.

"You shouldn't worry about that. Just focus on resting and getting better." Poppa kissed her forehead again. "I'll make you that oatmeal you like in the morning, with lots of strawberries and blueberries. And then we'll go see the doctor and she'll prescribe some medicine to make you well."

Elsie shook her head. Her eyes teary again. "I don't wanna have to move. You need to go to work. I'll be fine. Momma can watch me."

"No...hh..." William scowled, hesitated and then sighed. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, thinking.

Elsie was right, he couldn't afford to take time off to care for her. But he just couldn't...the last time he trusted Diana to watch Elsie when she was sick, Diana had had one of her episodes and failed to notice how much worse their daughter had gotten. What had seemed to be a bad stomach-ache had turned out to be much worse, and he'd had found Elsie crippled with pain when he'd gotten home that day. He'd taken her straight to the hospital where Elsie was diagnosed with appendicitis, a severe case that nearly proved fatal. Their daughter was in the hospital for a month recovering.

Three years had passed and he still hadn't forgiven Diana. The worst part was it had been on Elsie's birthday and he'd nearly had to work overtime. And if he had...

"Poppa, I wanna stay here. Mr. and Mrs. Mayford are nice and so is their dog, Leonard. I don't wanna have to move cause we can't pay the mortgage. I don't wanna move cause I get sick too often."

"Aw, Bunny-bear, it's not your fault. You're young and your immune system is still developing, so of course you get sick more than your mom or me. It's not something you can control so it's not your fault. Okay?" William smiled at Elsie, trying to reassure her. Sometimes it felt like his daughter could see through all his reassurances, and only pretended to be reassured to reassure him.

Like how she knew about things like the mortgage and bills. Or what it meant when her momma was having a bad day and couldn't get out of bed. Or how she always tried to be the perfect child and not cause any problems - even if it meant going to school with a 102 degree fever.

"Bunny-bear, you need to rest. Look...If your fever is lower in the morning and momma isn't having one of her bad days, then I'll consider not taking a day off. Okay?" William gazed down at his daughter while she mulled his offer over. Understanding that that was his best offer, Elsie nodded and lied down allowing the exhaustion from her fever to show. He tried not to show any alarm until he saw her eyes began to flutter shut.

"Wait...momma." Elsie opened her eyes and pouted, her gaze lingering on her bedroom door. "Have to say goodnight to her."

William sighed, and gave Elsie another kiss on her forehead. He then tucked her in and stood up. "All right. I'll go get her. Just promise to sleep and to not lie again about not being sick."

Elsie nodded and whispered 'I promise.'

William smiled sadly at his daughter, and left the room to get Diana. He found her in their bedroom, sitting on the floor with a manila folder grasped tightly to her breast.

"Diana..." He gaped then sighed, recognizing the folder. It was the same folder she always found no matter where he put it. The folder containing the birth and death records of Elsie's twin brother. The child his wife had mercifully forgot losing soon after birth.

Diana had found that folder the day after Elsie's emergency appendectomy three years ago, and those painful memories had resurfaced.

"...you must hate me." Diana muttered, holding the folder tighter. "First our son...and then I almost let Elsie..." She shut her eyes, swallowing back the guilt she felt creeping in her stomach. "You blame me. Don't you? Because I am...what I am. The voices...the hallucinations..."

"Diana..."

"It's just a living nightmare. A nightmare neither of us can escape. You probably think it'd be so much better if I left. If I wasn't here." Diana spat, her tone bitter and filled with spite. She glared at her husband. "Admit it."

William shook his head and knelt down next to his wife. "Diana, please. I wouldn't have married you, wouldn't have started a family with you if I thought that."

"Then why...why don't you believe..." Diana glanced down at the folder she held. She held it out slightly so William could tell what she meant. "He can't be gone. He's out there. I know it. A mother knows."

"Diana. We've been through this. Spencer..."

"No, no, he didn't. The hospital...the doctor was wrong, that wasn't my baby...it wasn't..." Diana scowled even as tears streamed down her cheeks. "...he wasn't the child we buried. It was someone else's. I know it. I...I'm not crazy. I'm not."

William sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a headache forming. "Look. Elsie needs you to go say goodnight to her. Please, can we talk about this later? She won't sleep otherwise."

Diana's eyes widened and she seemed struck, as though having forgotten about Elsie. Something that didn't escape William's notice, and he made a snide remark about Diana's 'a mother knows' refrain. Diana immediately stiffened at his remark, her expression angry, hurt, and vehement. It was also guilt-ridden and self-chastising.

"I know. I kno..." Diana seethed at her husband while getting to her feet. Catching sight of movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned toward the door. She immediately rushed past William and to the doorway, having noticed Elsie leaning against the frame. The poor girl could barely stand. "Are you all right?! Elsie! Elsie!"

"Momma...?" Elsie mumbled before collapsing into Diana's arms. Arms that wrapped tightly around her, soothing and protective. A cool hand touched her forehead.

Diana gasped, feeling how hot her daughter's forehead was. "God, William, why didn't you say her fever was this high?!"

"I...she didn't feel warm to me..." William mumbled, lifting himself off the floor, alarmed by his wife's alarm. He quickly lowered himself back down, touching his forehead as a sense of vertigo threatened to overwhelm him. He jerked his head, trying to push it away.

"William?" Diana approached her husband, while holding Elsie close to her breast. She knelt down and placed her hand on his forehead. Her eyes widened and she groaned. "You're running a fever too. Damn it."

"Di..." William mumbled at his wife's swear.

"To hell with language. You get in bed, I'll call Dr. Mortimer, see if he'll make a home visit." Diana insisted, glowering at her husband but more with exasperation at the timing rather than anger. She still held Elsie snugly against her, and only let worry fill her eyes when she glanced down at her daughter.

Just a touch of Elsie's forehead was enough to tell her she needed to bring Elsie to the hospital. She glanced out the window at the storm clouds. It was no longer raining, but was cold. She chewed on her lip, debating whether it was safe to bring Elsie outside. The hospital wasn't that far away, but with her daughter's fever so high...

"Diana, go bundle yourself and Elsie up. I'll drive us to the hospital. I'm not that sick." William spoke, glaring at his wife who started to disagree.

"...All right." Diana conceded, and left to bundle Elsie is a warm jacket.

* * *

 _A/N: What do you think so far? Should I continue the storyline with Spencer and Alsie/Elsie being children or should I skip to them being adults? (I have quite a few ideas for them as children, though I probably should warn you that I seldom manage to write 'happy ending' stories.)_


	2. Chapter 2

**They Put Us Far Apart**

 **Chapter 2:**

(Spencer)

Picking up a few stones as he walked and throwing them so that they skipped along the sidewalk, he headed toward the bakery. He could almost make out the scent of freshly baked bread over that of the rain. Though, he twisted his lips in thought, that was likely his imagination. It wasn't the scheduled baking time yet.

Skipping a final rock along the sidewalk he approached an intersection, the bakery just across the street. There were few people out and fewer cars. He shrugged and started crossing the street, ignoring the don't walk sign since there were no cars heading towards the intersection.

He grimaced as he walked along, his pace an awkward mix of slow and hurried. He was hungry, his stomach growling more incessantly now that the bakery was so close, and he quickened his step. Yet his legs wobbled with the weariness that comes from being hungry and trying not to collapse. He chewed on his lip, his eyes shifting from the bakery to his legs and then back.

The sound of the bakery door opening pulled his focus just as he finished crossing the street. His large eyes stared up at the adult who exited - the owner's grand-niece who often helped out - and he forced a huge smile on his face despite feeling weak.

"...oh!" The twenty year old woman noticed him, surprised at first but she smiled back. He'd come to the bakery before, mostly on weekends or unexpected days off from school, and so she recognized him. "What're you doing walking around outside soaked?"

He simply smiled, his eyes beseeching hers. Or at least he tried to, his hunger and the weakness of his body from it made it difficult to focus. He suddenly felt more wobbly and his vision blurred, he tried to blink it clear but the moment he closed his eyes his legs gave way.

0

(Alsie)

The bustling noises of the hospital clinic's waiting room assaulted her ears, forcing her awake. She opened her eyes slowly, her vision blurred from her fever. Amid the noise she thought she could hear her father's voice, arguing with a nurse.

She felt warm, comforting arms around her, holding her snugly. Her eyes, squinting beneath the overheard lights, gazed up at her momma. It was her momma who held her, touching her forehead every few moments and fretting.

"Momma?" Elsie whispered, her throat sore and scratchy. She tried to remember what had happened, but the last thing she could recall was going to her parent's room to give momma a goodnight hug.

"Shh. Elsie, just rest. It'll be all right." Diana spoke soothingly to her daughter, her eyes smiling even as she worried. "Your fever got worse, so your dad and I brought you to see the doctor."

"All right." Elsie mumbled, lying her head against her momma's chest. Normally she was very curious about being in the clinic, loving to stare at other people and guess why they were there. But she felt too tired to do so now.

"Mr. and Mrs. Reid?" A nurse called, her eyes quickly surveying the waiting room. It didn't take long for William to answer and approach. "Dr. Mortimer isn't in today, but our other pediatrician can see Elsie."

Diana's hold around her daughter tightened at the nurse's news, not comfortable with the idea of a new doctor seeing Elsie. It'd taken a long time to find a pediatrician she and William were both comfortable with. Her hesitance was brief however, Elsie's fever took priority even if it meant a different doctor.

"All right." Diana stood up, adjusting her daughter so that she could hold Elsie and walk to the examination room. She followed the nurse while William filled out the paperwork the secretary gave. "Who's this other pediatrician?"

"Dr. Tobias Connell, he's worked with the hospital off and on for a number of years." The nurse replied, leading mother and daughter down the hall. Stopping just outside one room, she opened the door and gestured inside.

0

"Momma?" A four year old boy, clothed in a pair of fire engine red pants and a bright teal hued shirt with a red racing car on the front, toddled towards Leah Crawford. She smiled down at him and picked him up.

"Yes, Vinnie?"

"We forgot Lee." Vinnie frowned, his eyes wide and round from searching all over the room. He'd been overwhelmed by the novelty of being in a new place that he hadn't noticed his brother wasn't there.

"No...um, Lee's at home. This trip is just for you and me. Just mommy and Vinnie." Leah replied, poking her son's nose playfully. She beamed at him and started tickling his tummy, anything to erase the frown on his face.

Vinnie giggled, squirming beneath his mom's tickling hand. His face was purely jubilant when he gasped out his next question. "What about daddy? Is he coming?"

Leah didn't answer but rather hugged her son close. She sat down on the freshly made motel room bed, patting Vinnie's head. It remained quiet, with the only sound that of their breathing, for a while. The expression on Leah's face and in her eyes fearful.

"What about that man that talked to daddy today?" Vinnie asked, hugging his mother's neck. His eyes traveled around the motel room, absorbing in the unfamiliar furnishings with curiosity. The walls were very light, and he pulled a face trying to remember what his brother had told him was the name of that color.

"What, sweetie?" Leah mumbled, knowing who Vinnie was talking about but shocked that Vinnie knew. She had thought both children had still been in bed when the man knocked on their door that morning. "What man?"

"He said he knew what daddy did." Vinnie muttered, and wiggled out of his mother's grip onto the bed. He made a face, confused. "...What he mean? Did daddy do something?"

Leah shook her head without thinking, pasting a smile on her face to reassure her son. "You should take a nap. You were falling asleep during dinner."

Vinnie puffed his cheeks out in protest. "I don't wanna. I wanna play Atari with Lee!"

"He isn't here. He's at home." Leah sighed, trying to get Vinnie to lie down.

"Nuh-uh." Vinnie shook his head, partly grinning but mostly pouting. "He don't have his key."

"...What? Of course he does." Leah paused, her brow furrowed trying to remember if the other boy had taken his key that morning. She hadn't seen it on the counter or its peg holder after the six-year-old left for school. Nor had she seen it at the house before she left to pick Vinnie up around one. "Sweetie, what have I said..."

"Ta-da!" Vinnie grinned, digging into his pants pocket and producing a key. It was Lee's house-key.

Leah stared at her son, eyes widening. Her cheeks paled slightly while Vinnie bragged about taking the key after the older boy left; His purpose to make sure Lee couldn't sneak home early to play Atari or eat any of the baked sweets in the pantry.

 _'That means Lee will go over to the Walters' house.'_ Leah groaned, pulling away. Her mind was jumbled as she considered what would happen. She started pacing, while wringing her hands. The sides of her head started to throb. _'Of all the fricking days...Ms. Walters threatened to report us if Lee was locked out again...damn it.'_

"...momma?" Vinnie sulked after his mom pulled away, confused by her reaction. Playing tricks on his older brother was something he always did and he never got in trouble for it. Momma and daddy never got mad at him for it either. "Momm..."

"Shut up and go to sleep." Leah snapped at the four-year-old, surprising him. "And give me that key."

Vinnie pouted, eyes filling with tears and confusion. Momma never chastised him, especially not when it dealt with the older boy. He shook his head, stubbornly refusing to hand over the house-key.

"Adrian Vincent Crawford, don't make me tell you again." Leah glared at her son, her worry over what the Walters would report about them overhauled her concern for Vinnie's tears. The stranger who had spoke to her husband that morning, basically threatening him, also contributed to her steely reaction.

"But..." Vinnie whined, confused and hurt under his mother's piercing glare. He sniffled and threw the key at Leah, crawling under the covers afterwards.

Leah watched her son silently, already regretting chastising him. Yet she simply picked up the key he'd thrown and headed out of the motel room, locking the door behind her. Outside she swallowed, hesitating before heading towards a nearby payphone.


	3. Chapter 3

****A/N:**** **While writing this chapter, I wondered why I wrote this first scene - why didn't I just skip over it? Why torture myself trying to imagine a character like Vincent Crawford and how he'd react in this scene? Why?**

 **This chapter probably should have a trigger warning for suggestions(?)/scenes(?) of child-abuse.**

 **Again I ask myself, why am I putting myself through writing this?**

 ** **They Put Us Far Apart****

 **Chapter 3:**

 _-"You understand, Mr. Crawford. You understand better than any of them, what it's like." The man spoke, his bespectacled eyes glancing towards the hallway. It led towards the back of the house where the bedrooms were._

 _"I...I don't know what you mean." Vincent Crawford replied, taking in the stranger's appearance - slightly disheveled but more in a carefree bachelor way than an homeless one. Nor did it appear that the stranger was high._

 _The stranger smirked and leaned in closer to Vincent. His voice excited and just below a whisper. "There's no need to hide it from me. I've seen you. At the park. You eat your lunch there everyday, cuz of the fresh air..." The stranger chuckled, his eyes glancing towards the hall then back to Vincent. "But that's an excuse. You just like watching them."_

 _"I...I really don..."_

 _"...it's okay." The stranger grinned, his eyes getting an excited gleam. "I do the same thing. For the same reason. Heh. Well, maybe it's slightly different from yours."_

 _"I..." Vincent's eyes widened at the stranger's words, not knowing if he could believe what the smug faced man was saying. Before he could respond the sound of a door opening behind him caught his ear. His cheeks paled even before the stranger smirked and spoke loudly._

 _"I know what you did. Mr. Crawford. I know." The stranger gave a curt laugh before leaving._

 _"...Honey? That...that man..."_

 _Vincent turned around to face his wife, his brain blank. It wasn't until he saw the fear in her eyes that he realized what she thought. And how he could use that to his advantage.-_

x

Vincent ran his fingers through his hair, glancing at the rear-view mirror of his Buick. He glowered at his trunk and at the expanse of road behind him. He was so far from the nearest town or city, it boggled his mind how the stranger could know what he'd done.

Did the stranger really know what he'd done? Or had his words been a ruse to lure Vincent out here? Maybe the stranger was a relative bent on revenge or some cop or informant. Or...

Vincent tensed as he noticed a car drive up and park just in front of his. He swallowed upon recognizing the man as the stranger from that morning. But the tenseness of his body lessened when, after getting out of the car, the stranger opened his back passenger seat door. And took out a small bundle.

Vincent exited his car, his fear turned to intrigue as the stranger approach. Just a few steps away, he noticed that the bundle was an unconscious young girl. Probably around five years old. His eyes lit in understanding.

"...I thought I'd bring a gift." The stranger smirked, handing over the unfortunate girl. His eyes gleamed as he recognized the look in Vincent's eyes. "I knew I was right about you. You like this one?"

Vincent didn't respond at first, but just took the proffered child and laid her on the back seat of his Buick. The child was alive but unconscious, and he noticed with a small bruise on her forehead. His lips twitched. "...what do you want for her?"

The stranger smirked, a wry, breathy laugh escaping his lips. "...quid pro quo, my friend. Quid pro quo. Heh. You and the missus have two boys at home. One, which I noticed, neither of you care much for." The man gave another smirking-laugh.

Vincent's eyes widened, thrown by the stranger's implied request. "...you want Lee?"

The man smirked, tilting his head. "Access to him. Yes. Maybe send him to my place after school or whatever daily. What do you say?" He paused, grinning knowingly. "Or I could point the authorities over yonder." He pointed at the desert, towards the right. A gesture that made Vincent pale.

"All right." Vincent replied after a pause, breathing to steady himself. "Okay, I'll send Lee over tomorrow. What's your address by the way? And name? You obviously already know mine."

"Michaels. Gary Michaels." The man smirked, and told Vincent his address. The next moment he headed back to his own car.

0

(Spencer)

"...will he be all right?" The baker's grand-niece's voice was the first thing he noticed as he regained consciousness. It was melodious. The rest of the sounds he grew conscious of were not however, but were instead deadening. It didn't take long for his ears to hurt from all the assaulting noises. He opened his eyes, and immediately was forced to shut them from the bright lights overhead.

 _'...the hospital. I'm at the hospital.'_ He kept his eyes squeezed shut, his head pounding and feeling heavy.

"Yes. He'll have to stay in hospital for a while, but he'll make a full recovery." An unknown voice said, and by his words Spencer-Lee assumed he was the doctor. Though there was an unsympathetic tone to the doctor's voice. "Now, Ms. Tillerman, your so..."

"He's not mine." The baker's niece corrected the doctor before he completed his assumption. "Lee's just a neighborhood child who visits the bakery regularly. His family are the Crawford's."

"Oh. All right." The doctor mumbled, glancing at the chart in his hand. A fact Spencer-Lee noticed by opening his eyes a sliver, before shutting them again. The brightness of the room, coupled with the heaviness and pain of his head, was too much. He did manage to see the doctor's face – it held an expression that could only be disdain.

"What?" The grand-niece's concern was piqued by the doctor's tone, her eyes widening. "What did they do?"

The doctor paused, considering the woman's question. He had heard the concern mixed with the same disdain that he felt. "You already know that the boy was being mistreated?"

"Mistreated? I knew they weren't feeding him properly, and I've reported the Crawford's to the authorities dozens of times about it. But I don't know anything other than that."

Spencer-Lee strained his ears to listen to the two, but was thwarted when both walked out of the room. He grumbled to himself, wanting to know what they were discussing. He needed to know, since if it was something that could anger the Crawford's he wanted to be prepared when he was sent back home. Ignoring the pressure in his head, and the bolts of pain that jabbed him with each movement, he lifted himself out of the bed. He didn't care if it would be against the doctor's orders or whatnot, he needed to make sure he wouldn't make the Crawford's angry.

When they were angry...he shivered, thinking about it. The consequences of the last time he made them angry were burned into his brain, clear and vivid. He rubbed his side, frowning and chewing his lip at the memory. It was burned in his brain but also into his side. The last time he pissed off the Crawford's, Leah...mother...burned the word 'fool' on his skin. Like a brand.

He shivered again, and swallowed back nervously. Detaching the IV tubing hooked to his arm, he proceeded toward the door. Each step his breath caught, bracing for the doctor or a nurse or even Tillerman to return and scold him. To bring him back to bed. He berated himself quietly, wondering why he hadn't simply waited on the porch. He'd only wanted to get some food, not be whisked off to the hospital.

Though, he supposed, his passing out had everything to do with why Tillerman had brought him to the hospital. As he took a few steps down the hall, and then a few more, he thought about the bakery, about the baker and his grand-niece. They were nice people, but neither really understood his home life or his parents. They didn't know how much trouble they got him in at times...

Spencer-Lee tensed at the sound of a door opening behind him.

"Seriously? I can't believe this is happening again." An unknown man's voice mumbled angrily, but with a tinge of concern as well.

"How was I supposed to know her fever would be this bad?!" An unknown woman's voice joined the man's, and Spencer-Lee glanced behind him out of curiosity. His large hazel-brown eyes flitted from the man to the woman and back. He blinked. There was something about them – something familiar.

"Lee! What are you doing out of bed?!" Tillerman exclaimed, scooping up the six-year-old before he could protest. She swiftly carried him back to his hospital room, flagging down a nearby nurse along the way.

As she did so, the woman Spencer-Lee had been looking at turned towards the woman and child, following them with her eyes. The woman's eyes widened, the look on her face shocked.

"Diana? What...?" William stared at his wife, his brow furrowed at her sudden shift in demeanor. His eyes widened in concern when Diana didn't answer, but only covered her mouth too in shock to speak. "Diana...?

"Tha...That's..." Diana simply pointed towards where she saw the other woman – Tillerman – take the boy. Her words escaped from her as almost unintelligent mumbles. _'….Spencer...'_


End file.
